The Art of Deception
by Jasmine2009
Summary: The team is introduced to a new NCIS psychiatrist and Tony is being singled out for evaluation.
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Art of Deception  
>Author: Jasmine<br>Date: June 16, 2011  
>Rated: PG-13<br>Universe: NCIS, Season 7

Summary: The team is introduced to a new NCIS psychiatrist and Tony is being singled out for evaluation.

Challenge: Under 5,000 words (5,015 actually, failed again)

Part 1

Gibbs rounded the corner, deep in thought. Something wasn't quite right about their current case; unfortunately, that thought never got a chance to mature because someone caught his eye. At this hour, he didn't expect to see anyone sitting at Tony's desk, but there she was, the recently hired and much talked about NCIS psychiatrist. He stared a moment too long, not sure if it was because he was startled to see someone other than his senior field agent sitting there, or because she was just plain attractive. Breaking the silence, he asked, "Can I help you, Dr. Andrews?"

"I thought I'd catch up with Special Agent DiNozzo this morning."

"Why?"

"That's confidential."

"You always meet with your patients this early?"

"Who said he was a patient?"

"You did, when you used the word 'confidential'." He observed a slight grimace cross her face.

"Maybe I just want to meet him," she replied, kicking herself for not thinking of something more plausible.

"Yeah." He settled in at his desk and opened a file folder, took out a piece of paper, and studied it for information about their latest victim: Petty Office Lance Croward, an average looking, single white male with no apparent enemies. His gut told him that Croward wasn't involved in anything illegal and that he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. And, like every other marine, Gibbs owed it to the young soldier to follow the clues and gather the evidence that would ultimately send his assailant to prison.

"Boss?"

He looked up expectantly to two of his team members staring down at him, "What?"

McGee hesitated so Ziva ticked her head over her shoulder and asked, "What's she doing at Tony's desk?"

"Waiting for him to come in."

McGee furrowed his brow, confused, "Doesn't she know he never gets in early?"

"I don't know, McGee, why don't you ask her?"

"Ah, that's okay. She'll figure it out soon enough."

Ziva studied the blonde haired doctor discreetly, then added, "I wonder what she wants with Tony."

Having no time for office gossip, Gibbs pushed the paper back inside the folder and left.

The Israeli looked at the doctor, and then to McGee. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but must have thought better of it, and simply said, "I need to see Abby."

Standing alone in the middle of the bullpen, McGee suddenly felt vulnerable. If she asked him any questions about Tony, he'd blab away as sure as the sun would rise tomorrow. He knew this to be a fact; everyone knew it to be a fact. He needed to leave, protect himself from imminent death brought about by the senior field agent if he peeped so much as a word about him. His thoughts were racing through his head, and when he looked over at her, she smiled at him, no doubt planning her strategy to extract the information.

"I, ah, haveta. Go. To. The restroom."

Dr. Andrews stared after him as he disappeared down the hall, wondering why everyone suddenly left. She had only heard rumors about "Team Gibbs", as they had been dubbed; an eclectic group of agents whose closure rate was inferior to none. But her orders were specific, albeit vague. She only had to speak with one agent, and she was given a name. She was told that she was only to ask general questions on his attitude towards women; afterwards, her findings would be evaluated and, if necessary, she would be given further instructions.

Within an hour of getting the assignment, she had pulled his file. Within three hours, she had read every piece of information she could find on Anthony DiNozzo, Jr. He was quite intriguing and she had already admitted to herself that she had found him extremely attractive, but she had never allowed a client's appearance to interfere with her professionalism and she wasn't about to start now. She had wanted to work at NCIS for a very long time, and she wasn't going to do something stupid so early in her tenure to screw things up.

She looked around at his work space. Her clip board rested easily beside his keyboard. A mighty mouse stapler stared up at her from atop a neat desk, which was not just tidy, but immaculate; not a speck of dust or a pencil mark anywhere. It seemed at odds with what she had read and heard about the agent.

The team responded to her presence as expected for she was used to feeling unwelcomed; she had grown accustomed to it actually and might have thought something was afoul if they'd behaved any other way. She was never really welcomed anywhere she went. A psychiatrist meant questions, and questions felt like probing, and probing was what the agents did to suspects, not to each other. Her mere presence put everyone on the defensive and heaven help the office politics if she was caught chatting it up with an agent in the lunch line. Luckily, she had been trained by the best and it had been drilled into her head that her chosen career path would never win her any popularity contents, and that most probably, by the time she was finished with NCIS, she'd be considered persona non-grata. But that was for different reasons; now, she just had to concentrate on one case and one individual. 'Just how late does this fellow come in?' she wondered.

"He should be here any time now."

Her eyes shot in the direction of the voice, "How'd you know what I was thinking?"

Gibbs answered, "You're not that difficult to read."

McGee hurried back to his desk, mad at himself. He had been loitering behind the staircase waiting for either Gibbs or Ziva to return, but Gibbs took the elevator and slipped by him.

"Where's Ziva?" Gibbs asked as McGee slid into his chair.

"She had to talk to Abby."

"Get her back here. I want an update on Croward's last days."

"Sure, Boss." McGee had no sooner dialed the lab when Ziva walked past, saying to Gibbs, "I was just about to call you." She picked up the remote and displayed Croward's official Marine Corp picture and credentials. "Petty Officer Croward's last known address was 329 E. Atlantic Avenue. After interviewing his neighbors, it is safe to say that he was a critter of habit; he jogged every morning at 0500. He returned to his house an hour later. He would leave again at 0630 and arrive at work at 0655."

McGee displayed cell phone records on the plasma and added, "According to this, he made five calls the day he died: two to his mother, one to a pharmacist, and two to his friends, both in the Marine Corp."

"You check them out?" Gibbs asked.

"I checked out the mother and the pharmacist, but not the friends."

Gibbs frowned at the news. "Why not?"

"They weren't home, but I'm trying to locate them now. Petty Officer Croward also sent several text messages."

"To who?"

Ziva replied, "To Jason Wilson and Scott Ainsley. Those are the friends we are trying to locate. Abby said the messages were simple, one word texts: 'face' and 'white'."

"Any idea what it means?" Gibbs asked.

McGee and Ziva shrugged.

"Well, find out!"

Scurrying to her desk, Ziva looked up just in time to see Tony step off the elevator. She was going to delight in his reaction when he saw the blonde sitting at his desk. Feigning to be busy, she pulled some papers in front of her and scribbled nonsense on one of them while keeping half an eye on her partner.

Tony stared down at the woman who had been the topic of locker room conversation for the past three weeks, and asked, "Have I been replaced? I know I'm a little late today, but usually when someone's been fired, it comes with some sort of notice….on pink paper."

Dr. Andrews glided out of his chair and took her clip board with her. "No, you haven't been replaced—at least as far as I know. I'm actually waiting for you."

Tony tossed his backpack in the corner and slid his gun into the drawer. "Waiting for me? Why?"

"I have a few questions to ask."

Tony laughed, "A few questions?" Sizing her up, he continued, "Are the questions of a personal or professional nature?"

"Strictly professional, Agent DiNozzo."

"Then, strictly speaking, I'm busy."

"You don't have a choice. I have orders to evaluate you, so you'll have to come with me."

"Orders? Who gave you orders?"

She ignored the question. She had been warned that DiNozzo was a master at deflection and could turn her words around faster than an F-15 could disappear out of sight.

"Okay, if you won't tell me who ordered it, you _have_ to tell me the nature of it."

She did not want to address this sort of question here, but from everything she had read about him, she knew that he knew his rights and she would have to supply an answer if she wanted him to come with her. She tried to persuade him again, "It would be best if we discussed this in my office."

"If you want to discuss anything, you'll have to tell me what we're discussing. It's not every day that the company shrink wants to talk to me."

"The subject is women."

"So this _is_ personal," he quipped. "Well, Amanda, what do you want to know? You want to know what I like in a woman? Or what I don't like? Right now, I like your perfume, and I like that outfit you're wearing."

"Agent DiNozzo!" she huffed, taken aback by his borderline harassment, " I am here as a medical doctor, not as one of your one-night stands. I strongly suggest you desist with the jokes and silly comments and come with me so we can get this over with. Oh, and by the way, the name's Dr. Andrews, not Amanda, and I'd appreciate it if you treated me like the professional I am."

Welcome to the world of DiNozzo_,_ Gibbs thought. Tony versus the psychiatrist… if nothing else, this should be fun to watch. Tony was going to have her for breakfast. It seemed unfair to send in a pretty young doctor to analyze the brain of his street-wise field agent, but there she was, in her navy blue suit and four inch high heels, asking him to follow her off to some quiet and no doubt darkened room to reveal his inner most thoughts on women. Yep, Tony was in his element. He would pay money to listen to their conversation.

"Okay, Dr. Andrews," he cajoled, "there's nothing I'd like more than to treat you like a pro."

Ziva dropped her head while both Gibbs and McGee suppressed a smile, nothing like being compared to a prostitute to get your blood boiling.

"I don't appreciate that reference."

"You still haven't answered my question. What is it you want to discuss?"

Suitably annoyed, she said, "Very well, Agent DiNozzo, if you insist, I'll tell you." She yanked back the first sheet on her clipboard and read verbatim, "This psychological evaluation is being done to determine Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo's ability to interface with women in a variety of settings, and to seek his underlying feelings towards women. It is based on the fact that he has witnessed an unusually high number of tragedies involving women and the desire for this agency to know whether or not these tragedies have impacted his ability to do his job."

Tony was stunned, and refuted, "I've not been involved in a high number of tragedies―"

She cut him off, flipping to another page on her clipboard, "―The previous director of NCIS, Jenny Shepard, was murdered under your watch; your partner, Kaitlin Todd, was executed in front of you; a former NCIS agent and team leader Paula Cassidy took her own life to save yours; a former associate and NCIS attorney, Michelle Lee, was killed on an operation you were working; a woman who you were once romantically involved, Dr. Jeanne Benoit, accused you of murder; you witnessed your mother's death―"

"Alright already!" Tony interrupted. "You've made your point." Burying his initial shock, Tony pushed off his desk and smiled, "You can ask all the questions you want to ask." He buttoned his jacket and gestured with his hand for her to lead the way while he followed quietly behind.

McGee and Ziva exchanged a concerned look, then glanced at their boss. He was watching the two walk away. Tony was never easily flustered and even though he hid it well, Gibbs could tell that her little spiel did not set well. But what did she want, and who had ordered this evaluation? And to what end? He felt the hairs on his neck tingle, and he looked up to see Director Vance staring down.

**Any comments are welcomed and help keep my muse alive. **


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

"You should have seen it, Abby," McGee said, "She started listing all these women in Tony's life that are dead."

"No," Ziva corrected, "Jeanne Benoit is not dead."

"Except her," McGee conceded. "Tony didn't even seem fazed by it."

"What does she want?" Abby asked.

They shrugged. "We were hoping you knew something about her, or could ask around."

"Me? Why me?"

"Because everyone likes you Abby," Ziva said. "And people will tell you things that they won't tell us."

She looked skeptical.

McGee explained, "Consider this a case for forensics, but instead of using your spectrometer, you're using your ears to find answers."

"What do you think I am, McGee? Five?"

"Okay, that was a bit lame, but we really need your help."

Abby considered the request. "Since it's for Tony, I'll see what I can do."

Part 3

"Ducky," Gibbs said walking in autopsy, "Whad'ya got for me?"

"Lance Croward died quickly. The bullet entered into his back and lodged above the kidney. The second bullet struck his heart. He was fortunate in that he didn't feel much pain before dying."

"Anything else?"

"Not yet. I haven't finished with him, but nothing of an obvious nature."

Gibbs nodded, yet remained standing next to the body.

Ducky studied him a moment before reaching for his scalpel and placing it on the chest cavity. Finally, he asked, "What's on your mind?"

"The Director has ordered a psych evaluation on DiNozzo. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"Just what I've heard— for your information, Jethro, the rumor mill around NCIS is alive and well—as for Tony, the general speculation is that he has seen his fair share of death, particularly among females. It might offer an explanation for Tony's commitment issues, but other than that, I can't see the need to have him undergo any sort of analysis."

"So why order one?"

"Maybe someone wants him to go on another assignment. As you well know, Tony is extremely capable of running a long term undercover operation."

"Without my permission? I don't think Tony would do that again."

"He may not have a choice."

Part 4

Tony admired Dr. Andrews from behind. Her navy blue skirt showed off her shapely backside and her button-down white blouse did the same for her chest. Her jewelry was minimal, a small cross hung from her neck, two small diamond earring studs sparkled in her lobes. No rings. Things were looking up.

"May I offer you something to drink?"

Tony nodded, "Coffee would be nice. Had to forego it this morning on account of—" he stopped short, suddenly aware of his audience. "Let's just leave it at that."

She studied him a beat before pouring hot coffee into two Styrofoam cups, and handing him one. "I'm sorry I read you that list. I don't usually speak about such things outside my office and in front of co-workers."

"Don't worry about it. They know everything anyways. Do you have any sugar?"

Tony dropped two sugar cubes into his cup, commenting, "I haven't seen these things since I was boy."

"Sugar cubes?"

"Yeah, my mother used to—" he stopped short again, and looked at her smiling face. "You are good, Doc, I'll give you that."

"I just have an assignment to do, Agent DiNozzo, that's all. Anything I can do that will help you relax and remember is all part of my job. I read something about you and sugar cubes, so I took a chance."

"Call me Tony."

"I can't really do that."

"Sure you can. I won't tell anybody and when we leave this office, we can go back to calling each other Doctor and Agent."

She was captivated by his candor and gave his proposition a minute of thought. "Okay. Tony. Why don't you take a seat on the sofa." She took her clipboard and folded back the top sheet and sat down in a well-worn wingback chair. "I'd like to hear about—"

"I'd rather just talk," he said, cutting her off.

She considered his request a minute. His eyes were not threatening in any way and he genuinely looked nervous at the prospect of resurrecting such memories on specific people. She returned the paper to its original spot and set her pen on top of it. "Okay, if that's what you want, but since we're here to talk about women, perhaps we can keep our conversation focused on that?"

"On women?" he asked. "I'd like that. I'd like to tell you the type of woman that can make my legs weak, or the ones who scare me, or the ones who have done things I never thought possible."

At first, she felt suckered, like he'd been playing her and she had fallen victim to his talents for which she'd already been warned. But he wasn't being arrogant or boastful. On the contrary, he sounded humbled and he looked vulnerable. God he was handsome. Smiling or frowning, he embodied the great features of the male species. She squirmed in her chair, experiencing feelings she shouldn't be. "Um, Tony, I think we should talk about some of the women on the list I read earlier. Perhaps Director Shepard?"

Tony took a sip of coffee and eyed her. He wished he was her chair, which told him his mind wasn't where it should be. He did not want to talk about Director Shepard; not now, not ever. Nor did he want to remember Kate or Paula. And it took him months to move past Jeanne, he certainly wasn't going to resurrect those feelings. No, he thought, he wasn't going to give of himself this way. He had other ways to convey his feelings. "What do you want to know about the Director?"

"What did you think of her?"

"Well, she never made my legs weak, but she could scare me in a way a woman of power could scare any man." He stood up and walked to the small credenza taking another sugar cube between his thumb and his forefinger. "She never asked anything of me that was inappropriate." Looking at it he mused, "Did you ever wonder how they got all these crystals to stick together?"

Twisting her neck around to see him better, she shrugged, "Not really."

He knelt down beside her and still holding the cube between his thumb and forefinger, he answered, "Only the slightest bit of liquid is added to change it, just a little tease. Then, and only then, do they mold it into a square, giving it time to revert back to its original, hardened, state."

By now, he was very close to her, whispering into her ear. She could feel his breath against her shoulder and smell his after shave lotion. She didn't want things to progress this way, but he was like a magnet, pulling her in with his powerful pheromones and distinct male prowess. "I… we… shouldn't do this," she whispered.

He moved even closer, allowing her scent to fill his nostrils. "We're just discussing our feelings," he whispered back, allowing his lips to get dangerously close to hers.

She felt powerless to resist and all sense of professionalism gave way to pure unadulterated human lust. She pulled him in closer, tasting his coffee laden lips, drinking in his aroma, permitting his hands to wander wherever they wished, hoping they'd find the right places sooner than later. She allowed herself to be lifted and carried to the sofa, where she lost herself in the girlish groping and the awkward unbuttoning and unzipping and untying of anything and everything that came in contact with her fingers and separated their bodies.


	3. Chapter 3

Part 5

"I think I have something, Boss," McGee said.

Gibbs walked behind him and leaned down, peering at his screen.

"Jason Wilson and Scott Ainsley both have criminal records."

"Why didn't we find this out earlier when we ran their names?"

"Because Jason Wilson and Scott Ainsley aren't their real names. Wilson is actually Young and Ainsley is actually Ferrara. Jason Young was arrested for drug possession and Scott Ferrara was arrested for drug distribution."

"I'll bet Croward had no idea those weren't their real names," Gibbs said.

Ziva agreed, "You're probably right. Abby's on her way up with information about the messages he sent."

Gibbs returned to his desk and glanced over at the empty chair. "Where's DiNozzo?"

Neither McGee nor David wanted to answer and thought they might get away with not responding until Gibbs held out his hands, palms up and lifted his shoulders, "Well?"

"I think he's still with the doctor."

"It's almost noon?"

"Tony IS talking about one of his favorite subjects: women," Ziva offered.

"Am I interrupting?" Abby said when she saw their expressions.

"No. Whad'ya got?" Gibbs replied, turning away from Ziva and towards the Goth.

"I think I know what 'face' and 'white' mean. It was a code that they used to communicate with each other, but it's very basic, like not sophisticated at all."

"What's it mean?"

"'Face' means they need to meet, and 'white' means immediately."

Gibbs scrunched up his face, "How'd you figure that out?"

"Oh! It was easy. I found an email that explained it. Something was hinky about it though."

"Hinky?" Gibbs repeated.

"Yeah. These two guys had this code with our dead petty officer, which they used with him but not each other.

It started to make sense to Gibbs. "Croward had no idea he was a mule for their drug business."

"Probably not."

"Wouldn't he find it strange to be texting in code?" Ziva asked.

"I'm sure he did, and that's probably why he was killed. He began to piece it together." Gibbs looked around and landed on Tony's empty desk. Unconsciously he looked up and decided it was time to have a talk with the Director.

Abby watched Gibbs ascend the steps, then scooted towards Ziva's desk. "Where's Tony?"

"Still with the psychiatrist," she answered. "Did you find out anything?"

"No, but there's a pool going."

"A pool?" Ziva asked.

"I'm in," McGee said, pulling out his wallet. "What's the buy in?"

Ziva watched, totally confused.

"Twenty dollars."

As McGee handed over the money, he asked, "What's the timeframe?"

"Two days."

McGee shook his head in admiration, knowing that it was his partner everyone was betting on.

"WHAT is going on?" Ziva finally blurted, unable to figure it out.

Abby explained, "Twenty dollars says he sleeps with Dr. Andrews and the one closest to the time, gets the dough."

"How much money is riding on this?"

"As of an hour ago when I talked to Agent Dale, he'd collected two thousand dollars."

"What!" Ziva exclaimed.

McGee quickly turned and shot off an email to Todd Dale, the cryptologist, "I'm going to guess by 9pm tonight. Has anyone taken that?"

Abby shrugged, "I took this afternoon at five."

Ziva shook her head in disbelief, "I cannot believe what is happening here!"

"You want in?"

"No!"

Part 6

Gibbs walked into Director Vance's office without knocking, something they'd both grown accustomed to. Vance looked up and said, "I was wondering how long it would take before you came up here."

"Why is my agent being investigated?"

"He's not being investigated, he's being analyzed."

"Why?"

Vance shrugged, "I really don't know why, Gibbs. Like you, I take orders and the orders were to have him analyzed by the company psychiatrist."

"They have something in mind for him to do?"

"You'd have to ask them."

"Damnit Vance, I won't have another part time senior field agent."

"You're preaching to the choir."

Vance watched Gibbs, who in frustration, pulled up a chair and sat down hard. He fidgeted with his hands a few seconds, then shook his head. He was having a conversation, Vance observed, only he was forgetting to say the words out loud. "What's on your mind?"

"DiNozzo barely came out of Jenny's op in-tact. He damn near lost his life and the whole mission took a toll on him. And now some head doctor wants him to open to her about his feelings? That's not how he operates. I don't mind if the higher ups want to offer him his own team, and I don't mind certain overt assignments, but these damn clandestine ops are going to kill him. Not to mention they wreak havoc on my team. What other reason is there to analyze him unless they want him for something?"

Vance leaned back, linking his hands across his belly, "I wouldn't jump the gun just yet. Let's see what comes of it. How are you coming with the Croward case?"

Gibbs took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, "He was murdered by his buddies."

"Can you prove it?"

"Yeah, but I need DiNozzo back to do it."

"He's still with her?"

Gibbs looked annoyed.

"Okay. Since it's almost lunch time, let's go see what the good doctor and your field agent have been up to."

They caught the elevator, riding it down to the first floor in silence. When the doors opened, there seemed to be more than the usual amount of people milling around, but that was only because Gibbs recognized three of the six people. "Abby?" he said, then he looked at McGee and Ziva. "What are you doing here?"

Abby never knew how to answer these sorts of questions and she was a horrible liar, which is probably why Gibbs chose to ask her that question. "McGee, tell him why we're here!" she said, pirouetting behind the computer geek. Gibbs waited expectantly.

"Well," McGee stuttered, "we are here. To. See if. Tony would like to go to lunch." After he spit it out he seemed particularly pleased with his reply.

"Does he?"

"We don't know, he's still in there with Dr. Andrews."

Vance stepped through the crowd and knocked on the door. "Dr. Andrews, if you have a moment?" He waited, expecting the door to open, but instead he heard a soft flurry of activity. The director raised his eyebrows. He knocked again, "Dr. Andrews, this is Director Vance. I'd like to speak with you." Emerging from behind closed doors was Tony, tie askew, hair disheveled, his jacket draped over his arm, and wearing the unmistakable expression of satisfaction and contentment.

Abby and McGee both clenched their fists and silently growled, "Damn it!" They turned and walked briskly away. Ziva gave her partner the once over, totally and completely in shock at his gall (or perhaps ability) to seduce the company doctor in such a short time. Dr. Andrews didn't tidy up nearly as quickly; in fact, she was a mess, shirt untucked, bare feet, hair mussed. Ziva was stuck between disgust and admiration. She knew Tony and didn't blame him for the indiscretion, but she did develop a sudden disdain for the doctor. Just before she turned and walked away, she commented to Dr. Andrews, "And you call yourself a professional?"

Unabashed, Tony asked, "You need me, Boss?"

Gibbs felt the need to suck in his cheeks to keep from smiling. "Yeah, I need you to get back to work."

Tony sauntered off, leaving the three of them to stare at each other.

Part 7 Epilogue

Tony came into the office at his usual time, and slung his backpack in the corner and his gun in his drawer. "What'd I miss?" he said after observing the conversation between Ziva and McGee suddenly end.

"Not much," McGee stated, "Dr. Andrews is gone."

Tony gazed off into space, remembering the morning they'd spent together. The green eyed doctor was completely at his mercy and he wouldn't mind seeing her again. "Hey!" he yelped feeling the wad of paper smack his head.

Ziva hissed, "You got that woman fired!"

"I didn't do any such thing. One minute we're talking about the women in my life and the next, we're—"

"—Stop! Do not say it!"

Gibbs and Vance listened from above, leaning on the railing. Gibbs finally remarked, "So it had nothing to do with DiNozzo."

"Nope. It was a test, but not for him. They were testing her."

Gibbs smiled, "Why'd they throw DiNozzo her way?"

"Evidently he's the best. He had what they were looking for: charm and good looks. They wanted to see if she would succumb to that sort of temptation, and what better way than to fix her up with Anthony DiNozzo. They figured if she could resist him, then she had potential at the agency and they'd keep her; if not, well…you already know the 'if not' part."

Gibbs actually laughed out loud. "In the future, Director, if they want to use one of my agents for an operation, I'd appreciate being read-in on it."

As Gibbs was heading for the steps, Vance replied, "I'll see what I can do with that request."

~Fini

**Thanks for reading and hope your enjoyed.** ~jasmine


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